Love Out Of Context
by ShadowPast620
Summary: None of the pack were born furry and even a sex god has a first time.


**Love Out Of Context**

**Disclaimer:**Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just play with her toys.

**Summary:**None of the pack were born furry and even a sex god has a first time.

**A/N:** This is dedicated with respect and gratitude to Mrstrentreznor, MeraNaamJoker, and taoist elf. I just hope none of them demand an apology.

**1 June: Welcome to La Push**

April O'Connor stood on the steps of the La Push Community Center frowning into the drizzling rain. Her sister, Bridget, joined her. "Isn't this exciting, April? I can't wait to get to work. Where should we start?"

April gifted Bridget with one of her more withering glares. "What do you mean 'we', Pale Face? I am somehow quite sure the Quileute people are perfectly happy with their traditional tribal myths and legends. You can pump Jesus sunshine up their skirts if you want to. I'm only here because Daddy Dearest and the Step-Monster didn't want to be bothered with me over the summer."

Bridget twisted her engagement ring around her finger like she was trying to screw it into her hand. It was a nervous gesture that spoke volumes to April, although she would never say anything to Bridget about it. "April, please. This mission means a great deal to Jonah. Do try to be pleasant."

April sighed. "OK, Bridget, here's the deal. You know I love you more than my luggage. I even love Jonah, despite his seriously antiquated and Borg-like determination to convert the unwashed masses. Therefore, I will stay out of trouble and give you no cause to worry about me or be ashamed to claim me as your sibling. But I swear on our mother's grave that if you even think about recruiting me to participate in any part of this ridiculous mission I'll shave my hair into a Mohawk and tattoo the word 'FUCK' on my forehead. You do whatever you want and leave me alone. In exchange, I'll be a little angel for you."

"You know Clarice –"

April held her hands up in front of her face, index fingers forming a cross, and hissed like a rabid cat. "Never say that vapid cow's name out loud. I'll be good for _**you**_. Once I get back home I'm gonna make the seven plagues look like a walk in the park. It's her fault I'm not at the mall or catching up on movies or getting a mani-pedi or any of the things normal 16 year old girls do. She may be Daddy's wife, but she's not my mother. That bleach-blonde bitch will feel my wrath, mark my words."

Without turning to look, April knew the gentle hand on her shoulder belonged to Jonah, Bridget's fiancé. "Try to be more forgiving and positive, April. I worry for you."

April closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Jonah reminded her of Kahlua and cream with his chocolate brown eyes, dark hair, and pale café au lait complexion. April wanted to hate him and had, in fact, tried very hard to do so. The problem was that Jonah was sweet, funny, brilliant, sexy as Hell, and believed in what he was doing. He was strong in his faith and his mission. Plus, he was crazy in love with Bridget. He was perfect for the elder O'Connor girl, devoted and kind to a fault. Exactly the kind of man who would protect Bridget from herself, and all the dreadfulness to which her innocence would leave her prey. April knew Jonah would always be there for Bridget. Unfortunately, he was also there for April who needed a warden more than a guardian, and wanted neither. "I appreciate the thought, Jonah. I can't promise to be nice to Clarice Huntington Lee Solomon Harper Atwell O'Connor, but I will behave myself this summer for you. Just leave me out of your mission. You try to convert them. I'll try to learn about their culture before time and apathy suck it into oblivion."

Jonah smiled patiently. "I'm concerned for their souls –"

April held up her hand. "Jonah, please. You're a good man and I think it's great you and Bridget are getting married, but if you don't back off you won't live long enough to become the big brother I _**never**_ wanted. Find me halfway through August. Until then, I don't know you. TTFN."

Safe in the Gecko Green Metallic VW Beetle that had been her early 17th birthday present, April headed toward Forks and the condo her father had rented for her for the summer. Just on the edge of the reservation April spied a small store and realized she was starving. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but suddenly junk food sounded like a very good idea. Fortunately, it was easy to find Twinkies and Dr. Pepper, and armed with her treasures April headed back to her car – narrowly missing crashing into a boy standing near the door. He muttered something under his breath that April didn't understand, but couldn't ignore. Spinning on her heel she confronted him. "Excuse me?"

The boy smirked at her. "You're excused, Barbie."

April slowly swept her gaze over the boy. He was a few inches taller than her, slender and well muscled, and clearly Native. He had long black hair and amber-brown eyes that sparkled with humor and arrogance. April sniffed disapprovingly. "I may not speak Quileute, but I read body language, and you have asshole written all over you."

"You lost, Barbie? Malibu is a couple states south."

"How nice. A GPS with a pulse – and an attitude. No, I'm not lost. Maybe you should be."

The boy stepped close enough that April had to look up to see his eyes. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a second on her cheek. "You're on my turf, little girl. I can't get lost. You should be careful."

The pithy reply April had on the tip of her tongue evaporated in the flash of warning in the boy's eyes and she backed up ever so slightly. "Right. Ok, then. Bye."

"Good girl."

April paused at that, fists clenched, spine arrow straight, but she forced herself to let it go and keep walking, the sound of laughter close on her heels.

**13 June: All By Myself**

April's life in Forks, WA had fallen swiftly into a comfortable pattern. Safe, predictable, efficient – and mind-numbingly boring. She had found her way around Forks with little trouble and had managed to make a good impression on her neighbors. April was a master at "playing the game" of being charming, appropriate, and completely non-threatening. She hated not being able to be herself at all times, but she knew the real April O'Connor raised eyebrows and red flags, and she saw no value in being on anyone's radar for the short time she would be in town.

The day had dawned as gray and chilly as her mood, and after two cups of coffee and fried eggs and toast April loaded her guitar in the backseat of the Beetle and headed off. First Beach was deserted and seemed a good place to sit and feel sorry for herself. Despite being an average musician at best, April did have a lovely singing voice and in the absence of an audience she was fearless. It was a John Denver kind of day and April did his work justice. That did nothing to save her from being horrified to hear the sound of applause behind her. Resting her forehead on her guitar April breathed a little prayer whoever was behind her would simply go away. God laughed.

"Not bad, Barbie."

April groaned and put the guitar in its case, snapping the locks closed with a bit more force than was necessary. "Come to insult me in English this time? Or am I on your turf again?"

The boy moved to sit on the ground in front of her. "Technically, you are on the reservation but you can't put in public parking and expect the public not to use it, so no worries there."

"Ah. So, insult me and get it over with."

"I got nothing, Barbie. You don't suck."

April stuck out her right hand. "The 'Barbie' shit has got to stop. I'm April."

The boy took her hand and held it. "Just April? Like Madonna or Cher?"

"April Siobhan O'Connor."

"Paul Caleb Lahote."

April tried to pull her hand back, but Paul didn't let go. "What's your middle name again?"

"Siobhan. It's Irish for Joan."

Paul released her hand. "Pretty. What's with the sparkly grape?"

"The what?"

Paul pointed toward the parking lot. "That toy car you drive."

April turned and looked at the Beetle as if seeing it for the first time. "Sparkly grape. Huh. I always thought of it as a Martian aphid, but I get you. It was an early birthday present from Daddy Dearest."

"Too bad he couldn't afford a real car. So when's your birthday? April 1st?"

"Ooh, funny. No. I'm named after my grandmothers, April and Siobhan. I got the toy car because Daddy figured the less people I could load in it, the less trouble I'd get into. Actually, today is my birthday."

Paul snickered. "And this is your idea of a celebration?"

"Oh, yes. I just love being stuck in East Fuck Nowhere on my birthday, no offense. Don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

Leaning back on his elbows, Paul crossed his legs at the ankles and smiled. "Nope. Happy here."

"Well, I'd rather be at the mall with my friends, as shallow as that sounds. I mean, I'm ok alone but I really prefer to be a bit more social." April's eyes narrowed slightly and she studied Paul carefully.

He sat up and uncrossed his legs as if anticipating the need to make a quick get-away. "What are you thinking? I can see the wheels turning."

April stood and held out her hand. "Come on. I'm going to celebrate my 17th birthday and you're going to help me."

"I don't do malls."

"Fine. Do you do movies? I'm positive you eat."

"I eat. But I don't do chick flicks. And I'm a bit strapped for cash right now."

April moved so that she stood over Paul, straddling him at his knees. "Now you're being difficult. I invited you so I'm paying. If that offends your masculine sensibilities, I'll be a bitch so that you'll feel like you earned every penny I spend on you. We can see the new Transformers movie. Please?" April batted her lashes and smiled.

"You know, the view would be so much better if you were wearing a short skirt."

"You are a disgusting pig." April nudged Paul with her foot. "But you're the only game in town right now. Get up, damn it, and come with me. Please."

"Oh, all right. You don't have to beg. I'll go. But I want steak." Paul reached up and grabbed April's hand.

"Steak. Baked potato. Dessert. Whatever you want." April hauled him to his feet. "Daddy will figure out how to turn it into a tax deduction. It's just too bad we're too young to order drinks."

"There are ways around that…"

The movie and dinner were a smashing success. The rez moonshine Paul scored for after dinner, not so much. The first night either of them spent with a member of the opposite sex did not go as one might have hoped. After throwing up for the ninth time April actually started praying to die. Paul stuck to her like a tick, terrified that he had poisoned her and would spend the rest of his life as someone's prison bitch for killing the stupid white girl.

April assured him that would not be the case. "God has a sick, fucking sense of humor, Paul. Since I _**want**_ to die right now that will be the last thing that happens. Besides, I think to be poisoned by something you've ingested it actually has to stay in your system. There can't possibly be anything left in my stomach."

"Are you hungry? I think there's ice cream in your freezer."

"If you bring me ice cream, I'll eat it."

The ice cream went down and stayed down. April started to drift off finally and Paul trundled her off to bed. He tucked her in and turned to leave.

"Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay."

Paul lay down on top of the covers and April rested her head on his shoulder. Paul slipped his arm around her and gave her a little hug. "I'm sorry, April."

"Ssh. Best birthday ever."

27 June: Brussels Sprouts Are Not Food

Guilt makes a lousy foundation for a relationship, but it's a place to start. Paul felt so bad about April spending her birthday being sick that he made her breakfast in the morning. Breakfast meandered into lunch where April introduced Paul to the white kid Heaven that is tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Lunch flowed full force into a dinner of pork chops with potato pancakes and applesauce. Paul wondered about pork chops and pancakes until April informed him that _**potato**_ pancakes – real potato pancakes made from scratch, fried in bacon grease and topped with warm applesauce – were most certainly not a breakfast food, were NEVER to be served with syrup, and were the perfect accompaniment to pork chops.

Guilt was quickly replaced by poached eggs and toast with a side of movies neither of them would have seen on their own, and culinary adventures worthy of the Food Network. Paul learned the hard way that left to her own devices, April was a creature of the night and waking her up without having a coffee and bacon backup plan was hazardous to his health. Since he was better with mornings Paul made breakfast. Before coffee April was pretty much brain dead and ate whatever he set in front of her. Fortunately, Paul was a better than average cook.

April made lunch, usually something simple, but dinner became an excuse to try new things. Shrimp Jambalaya was a big hit. Fluorescent Chicken got a 7. Brussels Sprout Soup got two thumbs down. Even the Russian judge gave it a three. Paul burned the recipe. Afternoons were spent exploring when the weather was nice enough to be outside, and seeing movies when it was too miserable to do anything else. They agreed on sausage and mushroom pizza and movies starring Sandra Bullock, and parted company on anything that had salmon in it or near it and movies starring Ben Stiller. Musically, there was no middle ground so the radio in the Beetle was usually turned off, although Paul would listen to Lady Gaga.

And so it went, day in and out, just two friends wasting a summer together and having a hellacious amount of fun doing it. Naturally, the first shoe dropped and to April's surprise it was Jonah who dropped it. April was in the shower. Paul was in the kitchen cleaning up. On this particular morning he was shirtless, having gotten bacon grease on himself while making breakfast. He started the dishwasher when he heard April go into her room to get dressed and sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and the morning paper. Rain was predicted for the better part of the day, so he was looking for movies he and April could agree on. Someone knocked on the door, and Paul got up and answered it.

To say Jonah was surprised to see Paul would be putting it mildly. Pushing past Paul into the kitchen, Jonah called for April. She emerged from her room and came into the kitchen. "Hey, Jonah. What's up?"

"I came to see how you're doing. I was afraid you might be lonely."

"Oh, sorry. Jonah Witter this is Paul Lahote. So, no, Jonah. I'm not lonely. Paul and I have been keeping pretty busy."

Jonah eyed Paul disapprovingly. "Busy doing what, may I ask?"

"Well, we had breakfast. Then I did a load of laundry – that's where Paul's shirt is, by the way – he got bacon grease on it. While Paul cleaned up the kitchen I took a shower and got dressed. Now, since it's supposed to be rainy all day we'll probably see a movie, but if the weather clears we'll knock off a couple liquor stores and set fire to the police station."

Jonah turned to look at Paul, who stood silent with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking at April. "I don't see the humor, April. I hardly think it's appropriate for you to have a boy you don't know in your apartment."

April frowned. "Technically, it's a condo and right now I know Paul better than I know you, Jonah. I sure as Hell like him better. What is your damage?"

Jonah spoke so softly it was hard to hear. "First Bridget and now you. I just don't think –"

April put her hands on Jonah's shoulders and looked at him earnestly. "Jonah, what can I tell you? If this is my time to be tested and Paul is God's chosen instrument of my undoing, who are we to question His divine plan?"

"Do not mock me, April."

Pointing a finger at the door behind him, April glared at Jonah. "The door is that way. Use it. Now."

Jonah paused a few seconds to stare at Paul, who returned his gaze unapologetically. Sighing loudly, Jonah left the condo, slamming the door behind him.

Paul sat back down at the table. "God's chosen instrument of your undoing? Who was that again?"

"Shut up, Paul." April was furious. "Jonah Witter, self-appointed savior of the godless and downtrodden and my sister, Bridget's, fiancé. He's doing missionary work on the reservation."

April began pacing the floor behind Paul, muttering under her breath. Paul ignored her for a few minutes until she began to get on his nerves. "April, you're wearing a groove in the floor. Sit down."

"I can't sit down. I'm too pissed. You're my friend. Where does he get off passing judgment on you?"

Paul let her pace for another minute, then got up and caught her in a hug, holding her tight. "Calm. Down. Just breathe."

April wound her arms around Paul and buried her face in his neck. She ran her fingers through his long hair and he rubbed his hands over her back in soothing circles. She looked up at him, finally, searching his face for something that would tell her what he was feeling. Finding no clue, she took a chance. "Kiss me, Paul."

"Why? Because Jonah wouldn't like it?"

"No. Because I think I would. Because no one ever has. Because you're my friend and I trust you."

Paul cupped April's face in his hands and pressed his lips against her forehead. April sighed and tried to push him away. "Never mind."

Running his hands down her body, Paul wrapped one arm tight around her waist and tangled his other fist in her hair, pulling her head back. He captured her lips with his, running the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip. April whimpered softly and pressed against him. Paul pushed his hips into her and rained tiny kisses along her jaw to the side of her neck. He buried his face in her hair and breathed deep, holding her tight. "Was that what you had in mind?"

April swallowed hard. "Better. Thank you."

The timer on the dryer buzzed, breaking the spell. "Yay. Clean, warm shirt. Pick a movie, Woman. Fun doesn't just happen, you know. You have to go get it."

**30 June: Into The Mystery**

Maybe it was a change in Barometric pressure, or the phase of the moon, or a moonshine flashback, but something had changed. It was subtle. It was electric. It was just on the edge, almost outside the field of peripheral vision. Paul and April had never been shy with one another. She loved to run her fingers through his hair, and he never stopped putting his hands on her and kidding her about the color – or lack thereof – of her skin.

Now he just ran his hands over her body and she arched against him without thinking. Now she hugged him while she ran her fingers through his hair. Three days after the first, the other shoe dropped.

"So, Paul. Whatever should we do with ourselves on this gray, drab, dull, chilly, miserable, OMG it's fucking raining again, day in lovely Forks?"

"Been thinking about that." Paul was standing in front of the sink, looking out the window onto the rain-drenched deck of the condo. He turned to face April. "We should have sex."

April took a small step backward. "What? You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. Come on, April. We've dedicated this summer to learning new things and trying things we've never done. You gotta admit, this thing is worth learning."

"It's a GIANT leap from life forms of the Pacific Northwest tide pools, movies with actual plots, and Brussels Sprout Soup to sex, Paul." April turned to walk away. "No, forget it."

Paul caught her arm. "Just think about it. Sex may be natural but it takes practice to be any good at it. Do you want to make all those stupid mistakes and be bad in bed with someone you really like when you're under pressure and all freaked out?"

April backed away slowly. "No. And I don't want to have sex with someone I don't care about, either."

Paul moved closer. "But you do care about me. We're friends. You said so yourself."

April ran out of room to back up and Paul rested one forearm on the wall between her and the archway into the living room. "BFF's, Paul, not FWF."

"What?"

"Friends Who Fuck. Sure, I like you. But what makes you think I'd want to have sex with you?"

Resting his other forearm on the wall to cage her in, Paul looked into April's eyes. "I know you want me. Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing is rapid and shallow. I can see your pulse in your throat. Your heart is beating so fast I can almost hear it."

Paul kissed her, soft and gentle. "And if all that isn't proof enough; look at where my hands are, April." She looked. His hands were on the wall behind her. "You're holding me."

April did, indeed, have a death grip on Paul, her hands twisted in his shirt just above the waistband of his jeans. "Yeah, well, you can't always get what you want, Paul."

"But if you try sometime, you just might find you get what you need."

"Great. We both like The Rolling Stones. No."

Paul slid one arm around April's waist. "Look, we're both as pure and untouched as the day we were born. You're on the pill. We can have safe sex without condoms. You know I won't hurt you or talk shit about you." Paul nipped her earlobe and whispered, "Please?"

April groaned. "What brought this up, anyway?"

"The kiss." Paul looked into April's eyes. "I can't stop thinking about how good it felt to hold you. I want more."

April's voice came out in a squeak. "More? What more?"

Paul brushed her hair back off her face. "I want to look at you – all of you. I want to touch you, taste you, kiss you. I want to bury myself balls deep in your soft, pale body and make you scream my name. I want to learn how to make you happy."

"Pizza and a movie?"

"Don't make fun of me, April."

April stroked his cheek. "I'm not making fun, Paul. I'm scared."

Paul turned them around so that his back was against the wall and he held April gently, hands at her waist. "Of me?"

"No. Not you exactly." April refused to meet his eyes.

"I'm listening."

"I don't look like a Victoria's Secret Angel under these clothes."

Paul laughed. "Thank God! Airbrushing and lies. I don't want to fuck a fantasy, April, I want to learn to make love with my friend."

"Ok, fine. I still have no idea what I'm doing. What if I suck?"

Lifting her chin up, Paul kissed her – a bit more passionately this time. "I thought we'd start with the simple stuff. Work our way up to sucking."

"Funny. Very funny."

"Seriously, this is really about you. Learning what you like, what works for you. I know not all girls are the same, but there's got to be a basic skill set to this thing."

April's voice was soft and very small. "It's gonna hurt."

Paul gathered her in his arms and held her close. "Maybe. The first time. I'll do what I can to make it as painless as possible. I'll damn sure make it up to you. I promise. Please?"

April was quiet. "I don't think I can move."

"Where would you go if you could move?"

April leaned back in the circle of Paul's arms and rested her hand on his heart. "Bedroom. Come with me?"

Paul scooped her up and headed down the hall. "You come first. Always." Paul kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and set April on her feet next to the bed. Cupping his hands around her face, he pulled her to him in a kiss that was both plea and promise, born of a soul-deep longing for acceptance and tenderness.

April returned the kiss, but she was restless in his arms. Something was missing. She pulled back and looked at him, frowning. "This is wrong. There's something just not right … Got it." April stepped back and tugged on the hem of Paul's shirt. "Shirt. Off."

Paul peeled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor. April ran her hand over his bicep and smiled. "Better."

Paul reached for her shirt, but April caught his hand, thought for a second and laughed. Paul tilted his head and looked puzzled. "What's funny?"

"I was going to point out that I'm not wearing a bra. Guess it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"One less thing in the way." Paul pulled her close, one hand at the small of her back; his fingers splayed wide and warm on her skin. He ran his tongue along her jaw line as he slipped his other hand under her shirt to cup her breast, squeezing gently. "So soft." He kissed her again, exploring her mouth with his tongue as he brushed his thumb across her nipple, teasing it into an aching peak. April pulled him close, trying to meld herself to him, and slipped her hands down to cup his tight, perfect ass.

Paul pulled away far enough to tug her shirt over her head and toss it behind him. He stood silent, looking at her with a small smile on his face.

April brushed his hair back. "What are you thinking about?"

"Vanilla ice cream and cherries. Your skin is so cool and pale. You're beautiful." Bending down he licked her breast and drew her nipple deep into his mouth, sucking gently. April's knees buckled. Paul caught her and held her close.

April slipped her hand between them and unbuttoned his jeans. "I want you naked, Paul. I want to do this."

"You sure?"

In answer April stripped off her jeans, taking her blue lace panties with them, and lay in the center of the bed. "Positive."

Paul tore off his jeans and threw himself into April's open arms. Any preconceived notion or plan of action he had dreamt of dissolved against the cool silk of her skin and the eager sweetness of her mouth. Neither of them had any real idea what they were doing but they made up in enthusiasm what they lacked in experience and let instinct take over. April ran her hands over every inch of Paul she could reach, memorizing every muscle and contour.

Paul couldn't get enough of the taste of her. He was almost high on the scent of her skin and every breathless moan he drew from her with his tongue and caressing hands shot straight to his aching erection. When at last he slid his finger down the valley between her thighs and slipped it deep into her wet heat April's hips came off the bed and her body closed around him in ecstasy. Paul kissed her softly and began to slowly move his finger in and out, stroking gently. He moved his mouth to her breast and suckled her in rhythm with his fingers. April tangled her hands in his long hair and began to move against him, until she came apart in his arms.

Not giving her time to come all the way down, Paul moved between April's thighs and slid into her until he felt her tense and catch her breath. The primal urge to push into her and fuck her hard and fast warred with the feeling of protective tenderness he felt for the trusting girl beneath him. "Baby? Please."

April decided the battle. She slid her hands to Paul's waist and tugged him closer. "Yes. Oh, God, Paul. Yes."

Paul sheathed himself in her to the hilt and began moving, measuring his length out and into her like the tide against the shore. April pulled his face down to hers and plunged her tongue into his mouth, claiming that part of him for herself. Paul broke the kiss, gasping for air. "April… I need… God, I've gotta…"

April pulled him in and licked the sweat off his neck. "Yes… _**Please**_…"

Paul wrapped his hands around April's shoulders and pounded into her, hard and fast. April chanted his name like a prayer over and over until, as promised, she screamed it one last time and arched up against him, shattering into a million tiny pieces. Paul pushed deep into her and came hard…

It took a while for April to wander back to reality. Eventually she realized she was lying on her back in the center of the bed, completely relaxed. Paul's head was on her chest over her heart. His hair was fanned over them and he was half asleep, one leg thrown over her, his hand resting on her belly. He was flexing his fingers against her, like a kitten kneading its mother's breast. The man in him reveled in what he had accomplished. He had seduced her, touched and taken her before anyone else even had a chance. She was his. The boy in him was content pillowed on her soft breast, safe in the cradle of her hips. April brushed his hair back. "Hey, sweet boy. How are you doing?"

"Ok. That was pretty intense."

April laughed. "Yeah, it was. I had no idea I was such a whore."

"Why? Because you liked it? That was the whole point, April." Paul raised his head and looked into her eyes. "You did like it, didn't you?"

April pulled him to her gently and kissed him. "I have two things to say. One, you have the sweetest ass. I hope you never put stuff in your back pockets because my hands are going to be in them from now on."

"Nope. Never put stuff in my back pockets. Plenty of room for you. And, two?"

"I loved it. We need to do that again. A lot. In fact, I think you need to just move in here so we can do this any time we want."

Paul took her hand and wrapped her fingers around his swelling penis. "How about now? Just give him a little encouragement and we can practice some more."

April stroked him gently, smiling as he grew bigger and harder. "Oh, and I thought my car was great."

"Are you calling me a toy?"

"No." April kissed him. "I'm saying you're a gift."

**14 July: _Vive __la __whatever!_**

**Time ****traveled**** on.**** They**** talked.** April spent, in Paul's mind, far too much time worrying about how easily he had convinced her to have sex with him. Finally, one morning he threw himself onto the overstuffed couch and pulled her into his lap. "Listen very carefully, April. There is no way in Hell I was going to give up. I wanted to have sex. With you. I want to continue to have sex. With you. The fact that you find me so irresistible only means we have more time to have sex before the summer is over and we have to get back to real life. Or whatever the fuck passes for real life around here."

April was unconvinced. "Yeah, but I barely put up a fight."

"Maybe. But it's not like you're turning tricks on the rez, for Christ's sake. It's you and me. What happens between us, stays between us. Now come here and kiss me."

Paul pulled her up so that April straddled his lap. He slipped his hands under the huge t-shirt she wore to bed and was delighted to discover she hadn't bothered with panties. Paul kissed her hungrily and slipped his finger deep into the nest of dark auburn curls. April ground against him and pulled back from the kiss with a gasp. "Have I ever told you my favorite unit of measurement?"

"No."

"Balls deep."

Paul undid his jeans, freeing his erection and April guided him into her. "Ooh, yeah… So sweet."

April stripped off her shirt and Paul covered one peaked nipple with his mouth, sucking deep and massaging it with his tongue. April rode him fast and hard until Paul held her tight and slammed up into her, pushing them both over the edge into a blinding, joyous release. Still connected and entwined they lay down on the couch and slept.

**They**** compromised.** April wasn't at all sure she wanted Paul to go down on her. She couldn't say why, she just couldn't figure out why he'd want to. One morning as she was headed into her bedroom to get dressed Paul called her into the kitchen. April stood, holding her towel closed as he guided her over to the table. He picked her up and set her on the edge, pulling up a chair so he could sit in it if he wanted to.

"Ok, Paul. What's up?"

"Me, for starters." Paul tugged her hands away from the towel and opened it so she was naked. He gently parted her legs and pressed himself against her. "Oh, yeah. Perfect."

April tried to ask him a question, but he pulled her close into a kiss that left her reeling and breathless. Paul ran his hands over her pale body, leaving a trail of fire that was only mildly cooler than the kisses he trailed behind. When his mouth reached her navel April tried to push away from him. "Paul, don't."

"Why, April? You just took a shower. We've had sex in every room, on every piece of furniture; we've even fucked in that damned toy car. What is the big deal?"

"I just… I don't know, Paul."

Paul gathered her to him and held her gently, stroking her hair. He nibbled on her neck below her ear and whispered. "You're so beautiful, April. I just want to taste all of you. I've licked you off my fingers often enough to know you taste and smell like warm honey. Let me do this."

"On the kitchen table?"

"Well, my original idea was in the living room in that antique-looking chair."

April was incredulous. "You wanted me naked and spread eagled in the wing-back chair? Oh, that's dignified."

"April, I'm about to bury my face in your pussy and tongue-fuck you until you pass out. 'Dignified' got up and walked out the door five minutes ago."

"Paul…"

"Let me do this. If you really hate it we don't ever need to do it again. Please."

Paul took her silence for consent and kissed her. She wound her fingers in his hair and kissed him back. Paul searched his memory for things he knew April liked and he did them all, slowly, gently, quietly, all the time working his way down her pale body until at last he was sitting in the chair, her thighs resting on his shoulders. Paul ran his fingers through her curls like stroking a kitten, carefully opening her folds and when he ran his tongue up the length of her and sucked her clitoris April arched off the table with a gasping moan Paul had never heard before. He froze for a second until April exhaled a shaking, "Oh, God, _**yes.**__**"**_

Paul had April's undivided attention and he made good use of it. April moved with him when he began to thrust his tongue into her. When he could sense she needed more he replaced his tongue with two fingers and licked and sucked and teased her clitoris until she shattered into tiny pieces. He licked his fingers clean and stood to unbutton his jeans, measuring himself in her balls deep. April clutched his hands as Paul slowly withdrew and slid himself back into her tight, wet heat. "God, I thought this just felt good. Fuck, April. This looks so hot – sliding myself into you and feeling you wrap tighter around me."

"Good idea. Please just shut up and fuck April."

Paul kissed her, his lips wet and tasting of honey. "Anything you want, Baby."

**They**** fought.** Over what, neither remembered. Some inconsequential nothing of the sort that so often precipitates the biggest battle. What the fight was about, or that they fought at all was not important. It was the making up that left an impression.

April apologized first. She really was sorry. Paul had become very important to her and with summer rocketing past there was no time to waste being cross and not speaking. Paul just should have shut up sooner.

April was writhing under him, trying to pull him close enough to kiss. Her legs were wrapped around his hips but she wasn't strong enough to move him. He held himself away from her, the tip of his erection grazing her entrance, close to where she so badly wanted him but miles away. "Paul, please. I need you. Please."

"You want me, Baby?" Paul dipped his hips so that he barely entered her and then withdrew, leaving April whimpering in frustration. "Tell me what you want. Beg me."

Had he been paying attention, Paul would have felt April freeze. "You know you want me, April. Say it."

April unwrapped her legs and braced her hands on Paul's shoulders, pushing him away. "Get off me, Paul."

Paul hauled her hands over her head and held them easily in one hand. Reaching down with the other hand he parted her dripping curls and slid into her in one quick thrust. "You're mine. You want this."

He did hear the tears choking her voice. "Not like this." Looking down at her, Paul saw April's eyes well and when she closed them tears spilled over her lashes. He pulled away and let her go. April sprang out of bed and, grabbing her robe, headed for the living room.

Though neither of them could, or ever would, articulate it they had just found and crossed the line between being swept away by passion and abject submission. Between a meeting of equals and cruel dominance. Paul only knew he had heard fear in April's voice and he knew he had hurt her – not physically – but in a way much harder to heal or forget. He put on his shorts and went to find her.

April was sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up. Her elbows were braced on her knees with her hands covering her face. She was crying quietly. Paul grabbed some tissues and sat next to her. "Talk to me, April. I know I fucked up. Please talk to me."

"I need a drink."

Paul went out to the kitchen and came back with some iced tea. April blew her nose and drank some of the tea. "You know how I feel about you. You know I like having sex with you. And I know you're strong enough to do anything you want to me. I trusted you. I still do, but you rubbed my nose in it, Paul. You made me feel weak and cheap."

Paul gathered her up and cradled April in his lap, stroking her hair. "Oh, little girl. You're not afraid of me because I don't want you to be. Trust me when I tell you no one stands up to me like you do. No one gets close to me. I don't let them. You have no idea how special you are."

"I don't want to fight any more."

"What do you want?"

April smiled. "Pizza and a movie. After sex."

Paul carried her into the bedroom and made love to her. He gave her his strength and passion, and she covered him with tenderness and devotion. They never made it to the movie.

**They**** celebrated.** April stood in the doorway of the living room wearing red lace panties and one of Paul's button down shirts – which she hadn't bothered to button. She had a small bowl of vanilla ice cream that she was stirring with a spoon, but not eating, and watching Paul read the paper.

Paul was intrigued. "What's up, Babe?"

"It's Bastille Day."

"Yes, it is."

April glanced at him and went back to stirring. "I Googled fellatio."

"The only Latin word every boy over the age of twelve can define. Go on."

"How do you feel about cold and sticky? Followed by warm and wet?"

Paul sat up straighter and put the paper down. "Keep talking."

"Well, it sounds a lot like eating a Popsicle. I thought ice cream might be a fun alternative to fruity syrup."

"So if I follow your little Lego train of logic, you want to smear semi-melted ice cream on my cock and lick it off?"

April shrugged. "Lick. Suck. Whatever makes you happy. You're not the only one with a skill set to learn, you know."

Paul got up and crossed the room to slide his hands under the shirt and stroke April's breast. He nuzzled her neck and nipped her earlobe. "Let's go learn something."

Once in the bedroom, Paul stripped off his shorts and sat up against the headboard. April handed him the bowl of ice cream. "Don't eat it."

She walked to the foot of the bed and shrugged out of the shirt. She stretched and ran her fingers through her hair. Paul growled at her. "Lose the lace and get up here."

"Ooh, pushy, aren't we?" April slipped off the red lace and crawled up the bed until she was resting between Paul's legs. "Not sure I can get all that in my mouth."

"Pretty sure I don't care about that. You can always use your hand to cover what you can't fit elsewhere. Don't want you to choke yourself."

April took the bowl and dripped ice cream down the length of Paul's erection, causing him to squirm a bit. "Shit, that's cold."

April licked slowly from the base of his cock to the tip, her tongue flat against him so that he could feel her warmth. She did it again and again, even licking the errant drips off his balls until Paul was about to go crazy. His hands hovered around her head as he wondered how upset she'd be if he just guided her mouth down on to him, when she read his mind and sucked him slowly as deep into her mouth as she could. "Oh, God, April. Thank you. Don't stop."

April gently stroked his balls with one hand as she moved her head down, lips tight around him, and sucked as she pulled back, swirling her tongue around the head before she went down again. April got into a rhythm and was rewarded with a moan as Paul closed his eyes and gave himself up to the feeling. He stroked her hair. "Almost there. Just a little faster, please."

April quickened her pace and took in as much of him as she could, moaning as Paul gripped her head and pushed his hips up just a bit and came. April swallowed what he gave her and licked the last bit of ice cream off his balls. She looked up to see Paul resting with his head back, eyes closed. "Are you ok, Paul?"

Paul opened his eyes. April had never seen them so dark. He slid down the bed and rolled her onto her back, covering her with his body. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, moaning at the taste of ice cream and himself on her soft lips. He covered her neck with wet, nipping kisses and moved lower to suck her nipples and graze them with his teeth. April arched off the bed when he slid two fingers deep into her and spread her wetness so that he could plunge into her, fast and hard. He pounded into her until she came, moaning and breathless, and pulled out to turn her over onto her hands and knees. Paul buried himself in April's willing body and fucked her hard, pushing her over the edge a second time before he let go and came deep inside her, the tip of his shaft just kissing her cervix. They collapsed on the bed and Paul spooned April, holding her gently against his chest. "I have to ask. What did any of this have to do with Bastille Day?"

"The ice cream. It's French Vanilla."

**21 July: Wolves In The Moonlight**

Paul held out his hand. "Come on. I've got something to show you."

April looked up from her book, frowning. "It's 10:00pm, Paul. Can't it wait?"

"No. Get up, go potty, put on your shoes and let's go. Now."

Against her better judgment – and knowing full well no argument would dissuade him – April got up and did as Paul said. When she was ready to go Paul grabbed her keys and climbed into the driver's seat of the toy car. April got in and was surprised when Paul turned the radio on. He didn't even change the station to avoid listening to Justin Bieber. April stared. "Ok, now you're scaring me, Paul. What's up?"

"You'll see."

Eventually April knew they were on the reservation, which meant she was essentially lost, but she trusted Paul. After a bit he parked the car and got out, retrieving a blanket from the trunk. He opened the door for April and held out his hand. She took it and let him lead her to the top of a cliff overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond. When they reached a break in the trees April caught her breath and froze. Paul stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

The view was incredible. The moon was full and blazing with a silver glow that lit up the terrain. The beach below looked alien, a barren stretch of diamond pebbled land littered with silver driftwood washed up on shore by the mercurial sea. The moon itself hung low in the night sky and looked close enough to touch. April held out her hand and leaned forward, but Paul tightened his grip. "It's a long way down, little girl, and the water's cold and unfriendly."

"It's so beautiful. Can we stay?"

"That's what the blanket is for."

They spread out the blanket and sat, side-by-side, gazing at the moon, lost in thought. Paul stretched out on the blanket and pulled April down so that she lay on top of him. He pulled her hair back and searched her face. "I knew you'd look like this in the moonlight. All silver and shining."

April stroked his cheek. "And you're the reason I shine."

Paul kissed her, softly and very slowly, running his hands gently over her body as if she might break. "April –"

April rolled over and pulled him with her. "Yes."

Paul buried his face in the side of her neck and slipped his hand under her shirt. April slid her hands down to cup his ass and pulled him close.

Neither of them saw the two wolves disappear into the trees.

**28 July: Beach With A View**

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, but even when life is sunny and sweet the path it follows meanders. So it was that Paul and April found themselves back at the place they first met - First Beach. It was warm, but cloudy and they sat side-by-side watching a gray, wispy fog slink over the calm water. April closed her eyes in thought and spoke softly,

_The fog comes  
><em>

_on little cat feet._

_It sits looking_

_over harbor and city_

_on silent haunches_

_and then moves on._

Paul looked at her quizzically. "What was that?"

"The Fog by Carl Sandburg. It's my favorite poem."

"Ok. I've got one. _There __was __a __young __lad __from __Nantucket_ –"

April punched him in the shoulder. "That's disgusting! And it's not a poem, it's a limerick."

"Which is a form of poetry and how do you know it's disgusting? I didn't finish it!"

April rolled her eyes. "I wasn't raised in a convent, Paul. Do you know the one about the young man from Kent?"

"Yes. Do you know what you get if you cross a rooster with peanut butter?"

"No, nor do I care to."

April got up and moved so that she stood over Paul, straddling him at his knees. "What I want to know is if the view is really better."

Paul let his gaze slide up April's long legs to the hem of her denim skirt. He studied her at length, with the ghost of a smile playing across his face. "Lose the lace."

"Lose the lace? Is that your idea of foreplay?"

"No. Lose the lace and come here."

April tossed her hair back. "Don't want to."

Paul sat up and ran his hands slowly up the backs of April's legs. "Yes, you do. Take off the lace and I'll make you very happy you did."

April stepped to the side and with a quick glance to make sure they were alone, slipped off her pink lace panties and dropped them in Paul's lap.

Paul set them next to him and held out his hand. "Come down here, April."

April straddled him again and lowered herself into his waiting arms. Paul wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close, and slipped his other hand between them to stroke her gently. "My sweet April. So wet."

April stroked his face and looked into his eyes. "You're hot."

Paul kissed her. "Thank you."

"No, I mean hot like you have a fever. Are you ok?"

Paul slipped two fingers deep into her wet heat and curled them to hit the spot that made her clench and grind down on him. "Better now, Baby. I'll be perfect when you come for me."

April rested her head on his shoulder, panting. "It's a bit late to think of it, but what if someone sees us?"

Paul nipped her earlobe. "Just sit still. I'll take you there and no one will ever know."

April heard a small noise and looked over Paul's shoulder to see two huge Native men standing behind him. "Paul? We're not alone."

"Fucking Hell. Ignore them, April. They'll go away."

April watched in horror as the taller of the two walked around behind her and put his hands gently around her waist. He spoke, his voice deep and soft as velvet. "Let her go, Paul."

Cursing under his breath, Paul moved his hands away from April so the man behind her could lift her to her feet and set her down in the sand to Paul's left. Paul handed April her panties. "April O'Connor, meet Sam Uley, self righteous tribe hall monitor and pain in my ass. The ass kisser behind me is Jared Cameron."

April smiled sheepishly and waved. "Hi."

Paul glared up at Sam. "What the fuck do you want, Sam?"

Sam held out his hand and Paul hesitated for only a second before grabbing Sam's hand and allowing him to pull him to his feet. If Sam felt the slick wetness covering Paul's fingers, he gave no sign. "Just wondering how you're doing, Paul."

"Well, I _**was**_ enjoying the view." Paul grabbed April's hand. "Let's go home, Babe. It's suddenly annoyingly crowded here."

Jared watched them walk to April's car. "He's got good taste, I'll give him that. So, is he close?"

"Getting there. He's taller and he's definitely heating up." Sam looked at his hand and licked his palm. "Honey."

Jared groaned. "Fuck, Sam. I can't un-see that, you know."

Sam laughed. "That's nothing compared to what I'm sure we'll all see in Paul's head when he phases."

**1 August: Never Saw That Coming**

Paul found April in the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards and fridge. "What are you doing, Little Girl?"

"Making a grocery list." April turned around and found herself staring at the broad, russet expanse of Paul's chest. "Jesus, you _**really**_need to stop doing that."

"What? You knew I was in the room."

April pushed at him. It was like trying to move a tree. "Growing! I used to be able to look you in the eye."

Paul picked her up and sat her on the counter. "Better?" He moved close to stand between her legs and pulled her into his arms.

April relaxed against him and took a deep breath. He smelled of soap and something warm and enveloping that April just recognized as _**Paul**__._"Yes. Better." She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and closed her eyes. "This is going to be so hard..."

Paul tipped her chin up and grinned wickedly. "It already is, Baby." Chuckling, he pulled her hard against his erection and nuzzled her neck. April let her head fall back and Paul licked her throat - long, slow, warm strokes that made her moan and catch her breath when he stopped and caught the skin over the pulse point gently in his teeth.

Her voice was thick with passion. "Harder, hotter, deeper. So much deeper." Sighing, she straightened and leaned back in the circle of his arms. "But that's not what I meant."

Paul kissed her softly. "I know. Did you put ice cream on the list?"

"First item. French Vanilla. Sooner we leave, the sooner you get cold and sticky."

Paul set her back on the floor. "Followed by warm and wet, followed by me making you very happy and very tired. Let's roll."

So the expedition for a scoop of ice cream that frequently preceded passionate abandon and blissful exhausted slumber began, only to take a sharp left turn into territory neither of them would have traversed willingly. The stone in the road was, as usual, Sam Uley. Of all the people Paul could have run into at the reservation store, Sam Uley was not on the "A" list. But there he was, and like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, not in a mood to be ignored. Paul told April to take the groceries and wait for him in the car. Unfortunately, Fate was in a foul mood and Sam delayed Paul just long enough to set in motion a chain of events that was expected, but that Sam hoped would wait until after April went back to Seattle.

Paul exited the store to find April boxed in by four boys, all of whom Paul knew too well, and none of whom he wanted within ten feet of her. "Oh, Danny, I am just dying to hear why you have your filthy hands on my woman."

Danny looked at Paul, clearly surprised to see how much he had changed in the past few weeks. "What the fuck, Lahote? This fine, pale piece of ass is your bitch?" Danny ran his hand down April's back and cupped her ass. She tried to get away, but she had nowhere to go. "I don't see your name on her."

Paul's jaw was tight. "I don't fuck livestock, Danny. I don't need to brand my women."

April tried to stifle a giggle. Danny grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, snarling in her face. "You think that's funny?"

What happened next would forever be a blur. One second April was boxed in by four of the most unpleasant boys she had ever met, the next she was at least ten feet away from Danny. Sam Uley had his arms around her and he was telling her to go home. April tried to get away from him, but he just turned her towards her car and gave her a gentle push. "Please, April. Go home. We'll take care of Paul."

April went back to the condo and put away the groceries. She didn't see Paul again that day – or for many days after that.

**14 August: Forever In My Heart**

First Beach again. It had all really begun here, so April felt it only fitting that she devote at least part of her last full day in Forks to sitting on the beach staring out across the water. Paul had never come back to the condo. As the days crawled past April ran the gamut of emotions from worried sick to quivering with rage to absolute paralyzing heartbreak. She had searched for him. Finding no sign of him, or anyone else who knew where he was, she searched for Sam Uley. It was as though neither boy had ever existed.

Now, she sat alone in the sand, resigned. To what exactly, she wasn't sure. She just knew it was something other than the notion she had been an utter fool who let herself be used as a meal ticket and easy lay. She refused to believe either she or Paul could sink that low. Eventually, she became aware of a presence behind her. "You're a hard man to pin down, Sam Uley."

Sam sat next to her. "Home court advantage."

"Is Paul all right?"

"Yes."

April looked at him, studying his face. "Would you tell me if he were sick, or dead, or in prison?"

"He's fine, April."

"Oh. That's good. Because we're friends, you know, and a friend doesn't just disappear -"

"Without a good reason. No, he wouldn't."

April studied the sand at her feet. "He wouldn't just get bored or tired of me and find someone else."

Sam slammed the lid on his anger. God, he hated this shit. If he never had to face another broken girl clutching the shreds of her bleeding heart, he'd die a happy man. He rubbed his hand across April's shoulders. She relaxed a bit under his warmth. "Paul cares about you, April. It's complicated."

"Kind of like a tribal rite of passage kind of thing? I guess technically he's a man now. Time to go on a vision quest or something. That makes total sense."

"Yes, it does."

April stood and brushed the sand off her jeans. "Thanks, Sam. Please tell Paul I said thank you and good-bye. Tell him he's got a friend in Seattle if he ever needs one."

"I will." Sam watched her walk slowly to the sparkly grape in the parking lot. "_Be __happy,__ April. __You__ deserve __it.__"_

By 10pm April was packed, fed, the kitchen had been cleaned up and there was nothing left undone but getting a good night's sleep before the trip home in the morning. That and forgetting. She decided a few reruns of NCIS would keep her mind occupied - Tim McGee was so cute - so she snuggled in to lose herself in murders and forensic science. She never heard the key in the lock or the front door opening and closing, but she felt his voice in every fiber of her being. "April?"

The sound of his voice, the soft velvet caress of it that promised so much, hit her like a summer thunderstorm and she struggled to her feet to find him standing in the doorway, watching her. "Paul?"

He had changed so much in the past few days. He was taller, broader, every lethal muscle more sharply sculpted, and he had cut off his long hair. "Please, little girl. It's just me, I swear." He opened his arms and April flew to him.

Paul scooped her into his arms and headed for the bedroom. He set her down and began peeling off her clothes, talking while he did it. "April, please don't ask. I can't answer any of your questions and I don't have much time. I just couldn't let you go thinking I don't care about you."

April caught his hands. "Just tell me if you're really ok."

"Yes. In fact, better than ok in a lot of ways."

"Lose the shorts."

Paul's lips curled in the familiar smirk April loved. "Is that your idea of foreplay?"

April stretched out across the bed and patted the space next to her. "No. Lose the shorts and come here."

Paul undid his shorts and let them slide to the floor. April's eyes grew wide and she sat up. "Holy - are you kidding?"

"Nope." Paul slid into bed next to her and pulled April into his arms. He kissed her – slow and sweet, running his tongue over her lips and into her mouth, stroking her tongue, and listening to her heartbeat and breathing speed up. He smiled to himself as he ran his tongue over her throat and she let her head fall back in surrender. His voice was soft in her ear and it set her body on fire. "I promised I would never hurt you, that you didn't have to be afraid of me."

Paul moved down April's body and rubbed his cheek over her breasts, sucking and teasing her nipples. "That hasn't changed."

He moved up to look her in the eye as he slid his hand down her belly and between her legs. "But I am going to make you scream."

Paul kept all his promises – several times – until April lay limp and exhausted on his chest. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "Paul, I know I never said it, but –"

Paul pulled her to him and shut her up with a kiss. "Don't say it, April. This is hard enough." He hugged her against his chest and stroked her hair. "Please don't cry. A part of my heart will always belong to you, little girl. I will take the taste of your lips and the feel of you coming apart beneath me to my grave and beyond."

April sighed. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

"Yes."

Paul waited until April was deeply asleep and slipped out the door into the trees. Sam was waiting for him. "Was it worth it, Paul?"

"To tell her good-bye? To not let her go away thinking I used her and forgot about her? Yes, Sam, it was worth it."

"And?"

"No, she's not my mystical imprint soul mate for life. She's just the best friend I've ever had and if she didn't have a life waiting for her in Seattle I'd still be in her bed. She cares about me and I care about her. We could have something."

"So you could rip her heart out later when she's really in love with you and believes you'll never leave her? If there's a good time or an easy way to break the heart of a woman who's given you everything she has, I don't know it. Better to let her go now while she's got a life to go back to. She'll heal."

"Maybe. I'm sure of one thing. No more tears. No more broken hearts. There's a lot of me to love and I'm going to share it. Love 'em and leave 'em smiling and wanting more."

**31 October: Boo**

Halloween had never been one of Paul's favorite holidays. He had no issue with candy or ghosts and goblins; it was just another reminder that he lived a dysfunctional life in a dysfunctional family. Like Charlie Brown said about Valentine's Day, "I know no one loves me. Why do we need to have a holiday to emphasize it?" So he was surprised to find mail waiting for him at Sam's.

Jared looked up from the plate of food Emily had set in front of him. "What'd you get? Jeez, I can't remember the last time anyone sent me mail."

Paul examined the orange envelope with the Seattle postmark. "It's from April." He got a knife from the kitchen, carefully slit the top of the envelope, and pulled out a card. "A Halloween card? Who the Hell sends Halloween cards?"

Sam shrugged. "Apparently April does. What's it say?"

Paul opened the card and found two pictures. He passed the card to Sam and sat down to look at the photos. The first was of April, smiling, and wearing a t-shirt she had designed. It was cobalt blue and had a circular design on the front with a moonlit beach in the center and the words "First Beach – La Push, Washington" bordering the design. Paul passed the picture to Sam.

The second picture he kept to himself. April was facing away from the camera, smiling back at him with her long hair swept to the side. Paul felt a familiar ache in his groin at the sight of her pale skin and the pulse point in her neck. Across her shoulders was printed "Lahote's Bitch." Paul laughed and turned the picture over. On the back April had written her full name, the date, and two words that took Paul as close to tears as he had come in a very long time. _"__Miss__ you.__" _

**Later: Brady Learns The Hard Way**

It was a typical summer Saturday at Sam and Emily's – food, rough housing, and wolves being wolves. Sam, Jared, and Paul were sitting on the porch drinking beer and waiting for the grill to heat up. Brady was regaling Collin with tales of his latest conquest. Paul ignored them until he heard Brady brag, "Stupid bitch gave it up so easy."

Paul slammed his beer down on the porch and headed across the yard. "That is fucking it. Come here, Brady!"

Paul grabbed the younger boy and threw him face down in the dirt. Before Brady had time to react, Paul straddled him and twisted his arm up behind his back.

Brady tried to twist free but Paul was too strong. To add insult to injury, Paul gave Brady an order. "You will NOT phase."

"You aren't Alpha, Paul. You can't tell me what to do."

"Actually, under certain circumstances either Jared or I can tell you what to do. Unless Sam says otherwise."

Brady appealed to Sam. The Alpha was unconcerned. "I don't see any blood or broken bones, Brady. You're fine."

Paul laughed and ran his fingers through Brady's hair. His voice was low and chilling. "Hear that, Brady? You're fine. No one is going to help you."

"Get the fuck off me, you perv."

"No. You're mine. I can do anything I want to you." Paul leaned closer and spoke softly in Brady's ear. "Scared, Brady?"

Brady snorted. "No."

"Really?" Paul shifted his weight and ground his hips against Brady's ass. "Want to know exactly what I could do to you?"

"No."

Paul stroked Brady's cheek. "All mine. And it was so easy."

Brady froze when Paul leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "Where should we start?"

"Nowhere, ok? You win, I'm scared! Jesus, just get off me!"

Paul sat up. "Good! Don't you ever forget that fear. Because I promise you, no matter how willing she may seem, no matter how much she says she wants you, no matter if you're her first or her fiftieth, that fear plays in the back of the mind of every woman you will ever be with. Every single one of them will have a moment when she wonders if trusting you is the last, stupidest thing she'll ever do. Every time a woman trusts you enough to let you lay her down, it's a gift."

Paul hauled Brady to his feet and spun him around to look him in the eye. "And the next time I hear you talk shit about a girl whose only sin is being dumb enough to be with you, I will mess you up. Hard."

Brady stood in stunned silence. Paul growled at Sam over his shoulder. "I'll be back. Save me some food."

Sam nodded.

Jared watched Paul strip off his shorts and head for the trees. "So that's his secret. I wonder if April knows how much she means to him."

Sam sighed. "Better if she doesn't. I just hope she finds a guy who deserves her."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, the one who needs her most just headed for Canada."

Jacob jogged into the yard and joined Sam and Jared on the porch. "Sorry I'm late. Rachel came home for a visit and Dad wants me to try to convince her to stay for the whole summer."

Jared nudged Sam. "Maybe we should introduce her to Paul."


End file.
